The Miniport
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Indie is not happy with Cassia for destroying their link to Xander.


The Miniport

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Matched/Crossed

Copyright: Ally Condie

Before leaving for my assignment in Central, I looked for Indie to say goodbye – but she found me first, and as usual, she didn't mince words. Standing in the doorway of our temporary room, watching me pack, her hands on the doorframe in that proprietary way of hers, she glared at me until I looked up from the plainclothes I was folding.

"The microcard," she said. "Did you throw that away too?"

I was confused until I remembered the look on her face when I'd mentioned throwing the miniport, the little stolen machine she'd been using to view Xander's microcard, into the river. She looked as if I'd stolen _her_ valuables instead of the other way around – although from her point of view, I probably had.

"If you're going to shout, please close the door first," I replied.

She did, then sat down on the lower half of our bunk bed with a huff. Her hair blazed like autumn leaves against the gray plastic walls and white sheets.

"Well?" she prompted.

"No," I replied. "Ky has it. He's hiding it for me. And as for the miniport, I only got rid of it because I didn't want the Society tracking us here."

"Nonsense," she snorted. "If they could track us, they'd have picked us up earlier."

"Maybe they didn't care enough to pick up two runaways," I argued back. "But we couldn't lead them to the Rising, could we?"

"Don't get defensive with me, Cassia. I know that game." Her hazel eyes, darker than mine but just as sharp, follow me across the room like spotlights. "_You_ just don't want anyone looking at Xander."

I blushed. I hadn't wanted to acknowledge this, telling myself my action had been a pure survival tactic in the style of Ky or Indie, but she was right. The idea of this wild, strong, beautiful girl using Xander's data to fantasize about had my stomach in knots, and I knew why.

"He's not yours, you know," I blurted out.

"He's not yours either," she snapped back. "Matched or not, you have no right to be jealous now you've got Ky."

"It's not that simple," I tried to argue, but my conscience as well as the glint in her eye told me she was right. It _wasn't_ simple – it was by no means certain that I still "had" Ky after our argument, or that I would even see him again – but that still did not excuse my behavior.

I put down the plainclothes I'd been folding, sat down next to Indie on the bed, and sighed.

"I know … I know it's wrong to be jealous. But I can't help the way I _feel_." I had to laugh. "This is ridiculous. You've never even met."

She laughed too, putting me just a little bit at ease.

"I know more about him than his Match would have, if she'd been anyone but you. I know he loves swimming – a water person, like me – that he's got the charm and power to have eighty-seven percent of his classmates looking up to him, not to mention those incredible blue eyes; that he knows how to heal people, or he will when he's older … _and_ he can hack a port. That line about his secret? Now that's impressive_._ If we ever meet, the first thing I'm going to ask is how he did it."

Her enthusiasm reminded me, oddly enough, of Em. Even though my dark-haired, timid, dutiful childhood friend had been Indie's polar opposite, talking about her Match had called just this light into her face. I missed Em, and found it impossible to be jealous of Indie when she smiled like that.

"Still," I pointed out, "You don't know if he's the same boy you imagine."

"True." She sighed quietly, staring at the wall across from us as if it held the answers. "But what about you? If you see him again, how do _you_ know he's still the same boy you remember?"

There. Trust Indie to aim her shots at the center of her target. Her interest in Xander was only part of the problem. I was not angry with her for being interested (part of me even thought she might be better for him than I was, with all that pride and sarcasm to match his), so much as angry with him. Even while I moved and changed, both physically and mentally, I had been expecting him to stay still, a dragonfly caught in the amber of our past. I should have known better.

"I don't know," I told her, my voice cracking with unshed tears. "It's just … he was my best friend for eleven happy years. I thought I knew him better than anyone, and then to have our lives fall apart like this … I said to him once, after I told him about Ky, that my dream was to make everyone free to choose. So that when I was with Ky, Xander could find someone too. I meant it – I do mean it – only … "

She looked closely into my face. Whatever she saw there must have made a deep impression, since a look came into her hard, thin features I had rarely seen there – compassion.

"Look," she said, "I didn't come here to upset you, just to find out the truth. Even now, I keep forgetting how fragile you are."

"Fragile?" After everything we'd been through, she still thought I was fragile?

"Yes. You _feel_ things so easily … sometimes I envy you for that. I'm like a cactus, you know? All tough and spiky. But you're more like that wasp nest I picked up. Anything can touch you – the wind, the sun. In some ways, I think that makes you braver than I am."

The last thing I expected was a compliment from Indie, especially combined with such an open confession of her own faults. I was touched.

"Of course," she continued, smirking again, "Some of your feelings are seriously off-course. That's why I'm here: your own personal Pilot."

"Where would I be without you?"

It was a joke, but only halfway; the rest of me was quite sincere in my respect for her, and she knew that.

"Whatever happens," she said, "With the Rising, Xander, Ky … whatever you choose, I want you to know I'll still have your back. You're my … you're the only … " It was her turn to blush, her freckles standing out darkly against her skin. "You're the best hiking partner I've ever had. Let's not let the boys ruin it, all right?"

Her voice was brusque and businesslike, as if she were reporting to our supervisor at the work camp. I tried to keep all traces of sympathy from my face.

"I promise," I said. "We'll stay friends, no matter what."

She stood up abruptly, wiping nonexistent dust off her pants, embarrassed to have shown me the softness underneath her cactus spikes.

"So." She gestured to my half-full pack and the jumble of pants, shirts, underclothes, cleaning products and traveling rations inside and around it. "You're leaving tonight?"

"Yes, to Central. I'm sorry, I can't tell you why – "

"Security reasons. I know." She waved off my concern. "Watch yourself, Cassia. I hear cities are dangerous."

"This from the girl who thinks falling into poisonous rivers is fun?"

We both smiled.

"My airship leaves in," I glanced at the timepiece on my wrist, "Half an hour. I'd better finish up."

"Don't let me stop you."

She was almost out the door when remembrance hit me. Ky wasn't here yet. How could I think of leaving without a message to him?

"Wait!" I called, making her glance over her shoulder. "Tell Ky … tell him … "

As usual, no words of mine felt good enough for him. _Tell him he should not have tried to take my choice away – the Officials forced me to take his, but who forced him to burn the map - except his own fear and jealousy? Tell him he doesn't need to be jealous – no matter what Xander's secret is, I will never stop loving Ky. Tell him I'll never forget the night we spent in the Carving. Tell him I did not reach him, but my feet step nearer every day._

Too much, too intimate, to pass along through another person. I would have to tell him all this face to face.

"Tell him I'll see him again," I finally said. "And … and that I love him."

The flash of pain on Indie's face was so brief, I might have imagined it. She covered it up with a toss of her fiery hair.

"Does that mean, if I ever run into Xander – and _if _he happens to like me – I have your permission to court him?"

I shook my head and laughed at her boldness. It was a quality I'd always admired in her.

"You can pilot, but you can't predict the future," I replied, turning her own words back on her.

"Fair enough." She shrugged. "Optimal results, Cassia. Do they say that in the Rising?"

"Never mind." I stood up and, much to her astonishment, wrapped my friend, rival, hiking partner and pilot into a solid hug. It was probably the last friendly contact she'd received since losing her parents. I hoped with all my heart it would not be her last.

"Optimal results, Indie. I'll miss you."

She buried her face in my shoulder before letting go.


End file.
